Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

by Anthony, Jane

  But, apparently, not everybody thought so.

  Rose had been disrespected.

  She had been hurt.

  Knowing that had happened made him want to throw himself through a glass window just so he could feel a different kind of pain than the one that gripped his heart in a vice and refused to let go.

  What had happened at Evelyn’s funeral was unacceptable. Heads would roll. Literally.

  He climbed out of his car and stood outside a run-down ranch house. The white siding was peeling, the lawn—or what was left of it—was overgrown and full of weeds. There was trash strewn about everywhere. Even in the dark, this place looked like a dump.

  Without worrying about whether anyone would or had spotted him, he strolled around to the back of the property and smashed his hand through the glass panel in the door so he could reach through and unlock it. He didn't care if the sound of breaking glass woke the house’s single occupant. He was here for blood and he wasn't leaving until he got it.

  “Who’s there?” a voice called out from somewhere in the house.

  He clutched his knife tightly, excitement starting to push some of the anger away. He couldn’t wait to shove the blade into his victim, slicing it through flesh until he’d cut it open and the blood of the wicked spilled everywhere.

  What could be more satisfying than that?

  “Hey, I said, who’s there?” the man growled again. From the sound of his voice, he was clearly hungover. What else was new? Maybe if he wasn't always drunk, he wouldn’t be such a vile human being. Or then again, maybe he would be. Evil was evil, after all.

  Quietly, he moved so he was standing behind the kitchen door. When the man came in and saw the back door open that would distract him and he wouldn’t even see the knife coming until it had already sliced through his body.

  “Hello?” The voice was a little uncertain this time. “Anybody there? What the …” he trailed off as he entered the room and saw the back door standing wide open.

  Without hesitation, he stepped forward, and with one smooth stroke of the knife, he buried the blade deep in the back of the man whose house he’d broken into.

  The man made a gurgling sound. His hands tried to claw behind him to reach the handle, then he collapsed with a grunt.

  Pleased, he stood above Nathan Insoll.

  The man was disgusting.

  What he had done to Rose today, touching her, trying to force himself on her—and at her best friend’s funeral, no less. It was despicable.

  Nathan’s eyes grew wide as he saw him and recognition dawned, despite the blood loss from the deep wound in his back.

  “You touched Rose,” he said as he reached for his knife and pulled it out. “So you die.”

  He lifted the knife above his head. Nathan’s eyes followed it, a silent plea filled his face, but he would be shown no mercy, just like he had never shown another living soul mercy.

  The knife made a swishing sound as it flew through the air and then a kind of ripping sound as it sliced through Nathan's neck.

  Over and over again, he stabbed him.

  Up and down, up and down.

  Blood splattered the ceiling, the walls, himself, but he didn't stop.

  He couldn’t.

  Not until every drop of his rage had been countered by a drop of Nathan’s blood.

  At last, it was done.

  He was breathless and bent over, his hands on his knees as he took in his handiwork. He had stabbed Nathan in the neck so many times he had basically severed his head.

  Nathan would never again hurt Rose, and neither would anyone else.

  Perhaps it was time that he and Rose started their lives together.

  Carter held out his hand. “How about we work on this communication thing together? What do you say, Rose? Will you forgive me?”

  “No.” Rose shook her head.

  Hurt filled his face. “No?”

  “No, I won't forgive you because there’s nothing to forgive. You didn't do anything wrong. I wasn't angry with you today, about what happened at the funeral, it was just your temper. I don’t like to see you like that,” she explained. She knew the dangers a bad temper could bring about on those unfortunate enough to get caught up in its cross fire.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately. “I just can’t stand back and watch someone hurt you and do nothing.”

  “I know.” She smiled up at him, and she really did. She got why he’d done it; She just didn't like to see the man she thought she might love behaving like that. “Let’s sit.” She took his hand and led him to the sofa. “I’m sorry about the other night. You know … about the water.”

  “So am I.”

  “Is there a compromise of some sort that we can come to?” she asked. She was never going to agree to never go near the water, and she knew he was never going to like the water, but surely, there had to be a middle ground. If they were going to have a relationship, then they were going to have to find one.

  “I don’t know,” Carter answered honestly. “The thought of watching you drown like I watched my brother drown … I couldn’t cope with that.”

  As much as she didn't want to have this conversation, Rose couldn’t see any way around it.

  Maybe if he understood why it was so important to her that she never let anyone take away her control and her ability to make her own decisions, he would get why she couldn’t agree to what he wanted.

  Taking a deep breath, Rose began. “My parents died in a plane crash when I was six. It was only the three of us in the plane and they were killed instantly. I was alone in there with them for hours before we were found. There wasn't any other family to take me in, so I went into foster care. I was moved around a bit, then when I was nine, I went to live in a big house out in the country. That’s where I met Evie. We were both there until we were eighteen.”

  Carter’s face had gone pale. “I can guess where this story is going; you don’t have to tell me. I’m so sorry, Rose.”

  “No, I have to say this. I want you to understand why Evie and I promised each other that we would never let anyone control us ever again. You know that Nathan was our foster brother; it was his parents’ farm we lived on. He had a sister, but she died … I'm not sure how. I know it’s not an unusual story, unfortunately. Our foster father was abusive; he beat the boys and raped the girls—the older ones, anyway. He liked teenagers, but he took a special interest in me. I think I looked like his daughter, reminded him of her, so he used to make me watch. Until I was older anyway. It wasn’t just us foster kids he was abusing; it was his son, too. He used to beat Nathan, and I think he would tell him he wished it was him who died and not his sister. I think that’s why Nathan is … you know … the way he is. I’m not making excuses for him, but his dad messed all of us up.”

  “Rose …” Carter took her hands and squeezed as though his touch could somehow erase what had happened to her.

  “When we left, Evie and I, we promised each other that we would never ever let anyone have that kind of control over us again. When we were there, there was nothing we could do to stop what was happening to us. Our social worker never visited, and even if she did, we were probably only going to end up in another bad home. So that’s why I can't just blindly promise you that I’ll never go in the water again. Do you understand?” She looked at him anxiously. She knew that he had grown up in a loving home with two parents who adored him. Carter didn't know what it was like to grow up the way she and Evie had.

  “I understand,” he assured her. “I don’t want you to worry about it. We both have good reasons for feeling the way we do, and we don’t have to come up with an answer tonight. We have time. Plenty of time.”

  “We do?” Rose had been worried that she and Carter were just too different, and that the fact that neither of them were the best at talking things through was just going to cause too many problems. Problems that couldn’t be overcome.

  “We do,” Carter promised, leaning down to kiss her.r />
  He was still riding a high.

  And wearing a little of Nathan Insoll’s blood, he noticed as he looked down. He’d taken a shower in the man’s bathroom before he left, and thrown his clothes in the washer and dryer, but in the glow of the streetlight, he could see he had missed a little spot on his hand. He rubbed it off as he parked the car outside the second house he planned to visit tonight.

  Nathan had hurt Rose, so he had to die.

  Carter Dixson was trying to steal Rose, so he had to die, too.

  He didn't care that the man was a cop and that killing him was likely going to bring out the full force of the police department; all he cared about was protecting Rose.

  The cop was all wrong for her. He was only going to wind up breaking her heart.

  No.

  That cop wasn't good enough for Rose.

  He was what Rose needed.

  And he was going to have her.

  Which was why he was here.

  He was going to take the cop out of the equation—eliminate him permanently so he couldn’t get in the way again.

  Climbing out of his car, he stalked determinedly toward the back of the house. Since Carter Dixson was a cop, this wouldn’t be as easy as killing Nathan had been. He might be armed, especially if he heard the sounds of someone breaking in. But he wasn't worried. He would succeed because anything else wasn't an option.

  Instead of just breaking a pane of glass in the back door to gain entry, he picked the lock. He wasn't very good at it, and it took him several tries to get the lock to click and the door to swing open.

  It was late; the man was probably in bed. Bedrooms were usually upstairs, so he headed up the staircase in the corner of the room. There were four doors up here—three were open and one was closed. He beelined straight for the closed door.

  He paused as he caught sight of his silhouette on the wall. The knife in his hand looked good. He’d never really thought much about knives before, but they were quickly becoming one of his favorite things. He’d have to bear that in mind for the future.

  At the closed door, he pressed his ear to it, straining to hear any sounds that indicated someone was awake and waiting for him on the other side.

  When he didn't hear anything, he eased the door open slowly—he didn't want a creak to wake the cop when he was this close—and stepped inside.

  The bed was empty.

  In a panic, he spun in a circle, scanning the room for the shadow he was sure was about to leap out at him.

  But there was nothing.

  Carter Dixson wasn't here.

  Was he lurking somewhere else in the house waiting to get him as he made his way back downstairs?

  Quickly, he hurried out of the room, checking each of the other rooms as he went. Where was he? He had to be here somewhere.

  Nervous anticipation bubbled inside him. He wanted this man dead. He needed to feel his blood slide through his fingertips. He needed to see it shimmer in the light. He needed to see the life drain from the man’s eyes.

  He searched every inch of the house and came up empty.

  The garage. Maybe the cop was in there.

  He threw open the door and froze.

  There was no car.

  Carter wasn't here, and he had a pretty good idea where the man was.

  He was at Rose’s house.

  “No, no, no, no, no!” he growled, his frustration growing. Why couldn’t Rose see that Carter wasn't right for her?

  Why couldn’t she see that he was everything she had been looking for and not some stupid cop?

  He beat his hands against the wall until pain coursed through them.

  Why did nothing in his life ever go smoothly?

  Why did everyone else get what they wanted while he was left out in the cold?

  It wasn't fair.

  He turned his anger on the cop’s house, trashing it, breaking everything he could get his hands on until finally he felt a little relief from his rage.

  Carter might not be here, but that didn't mean he got a free pass.

  Retrieving his knife, he stalked back outside to his car. If Carter was at Rose’s house, then that was where he was going.

  12

  The minute his lips touched hers, he knew he made the right decision to see her tonight. He would’ve never survived an entire night without seeing her beautiful face. Her soft black hair. Her expressive blue eyes that told him so much.

  She didn’t say she loved him back, but her eyes told him enough. After everything she just told him, he didn’t expect to receive her love that easily. He’d have his work cut out for him. He’d have to take everything slow and steady. He had her in his arms, and he couldn’t do anything else to scare her away.

  Her hand reached up and pressed against his chest. Moving closer, one hand wrapping around her waist to pull her closer, and the other cradling the back of her head, he deepened the kiss. A low, sweet moan slipped from her lips.

  He could kiss her all night, expressing his love. He honestly wasn’t sure he could say the words again, not unless he heard them back. Patience was the utmost importance with Rose, but he could only lay his heart on the line once or twice before his panic would set in.

  The thought of losing her had him pulling her even closer. Rose didn’t resist, falling into his lap as the kiss turned hotter.

  Her hand clutched the front of his shirt, her other resting on his hip, as another sweet, delicate moan escaped.

  This couldn’t go on much longer before he lost all control. Arguing, the tension, it had caused a rift between them he didn’t think would ever be fixed. Now all he wanted to do was claim her. Brand her as his so no one would ever wonder who Rose belonged to.

  She said she didn’t want anyone else to have control over her again. He didn’t want to control her. Far from it. But he did want the world to know—Lincoln, specifically—that she was taken.

  She was his.

  But he couldn’t rush her. Not after everything she’d been through. He had to slow things down.

  His lips lingered, even though he knew he should pull away. Her lips were so soft and sweet, and he ached to explore more. More of Rose. More of her softness. More of her sweetness that he would never get enough of.

  Forcing himself, he gently pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. “If I keep kissing you, I’m liable to do so much more.”

  Her hand tightened around his shirt. “I like kissing you.”

  “And I love you, Rose.” He waited a moment for her to return the sentiment. Nothing but her gentle breaths answered.

  He knew he should’ve waited longer to say it again, but these feelings, this intense urge to get it out because … he didn’t know why. He just felt compelled to say it again before something terrible happened.

  But nothing bad was going to happen.

  And nothing more than kissing would either.

  Except her hand was still clutched tightly to his shirt and her other hand felt frozen on his side. He held her securely in his arms, right where she belonged. The night could turn into day and he wouldn’t care. He didn’t want to let her go.

  “Carter, I …” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I always feel safe in your arms.”

  “I never want to let you go.” His fingers brushed against her back, caressing her even further into his embrace. “I want …” He pressed his lips lightly to hers. “I want you, Rose. I want to carry you to your bedroom and show you how much I truly care about you. But I know—”

  “I care about you, too.” Her head lifted, her ocean blue eyes shining with what he swore was love. “I … want you, too.”

  “We can wait. I don’t want to rush you into anything.”

  Her hand finally relaxed, letting his shirt go. “You’re not rushing me. I’m not going to break, Carter. You don’t have to treat me like a porcelain doll.” A tender smile touched her lips. “You’re giving me the control right now, and that’s all I ever ask from you. Carry me.” A light blush coated h
er cheeks. “I’ve never been carried like that.”

  A bright smile lit up his face. “Then your wish is my command. Always.”

  He released her from his embrace and stood up, then scooped her into his arms before she could change her mind. Although, by her shimmering blue gaze, she had no intention of changing her mind. She wanted this. She wanted him.

  It almost felt surreal. He never imagined he’d find this kind of happiness.

  With a point of her finger and a sweet smile, he found her room with ease. Instead of flipping on the main light, he gently set her on the bed and turned on the light sitting on her nightstand. Then he sat down next to her, grabbing one of her hands.

  “Have you … been with anyone since …” He shrugged, extremely uncomfortable about broaching the subject, but knowing it was necessary.

  Rose shook her head, squeezing his hand tightly. “I wasn’t ready, but I am now.”

  He couldn’t hold back a grin. How did he get so lucky to find this amazing woman?

  “It’s been awhile for me. It’s crazy to admit, but I’m a bit nervous. I don’t want to screw this up with you, Rose.”

  Her cheeks bloomed a light shade of red as her lips turned into a smile. “I’m glad you’re nervous. We’re in the same boat.”

  He twitched slightly, a flash of her sitting frightened in the rowboat in the middle of the lake. She started to frown. Before she could ask him what was wrong, he leaned over and kissed her. He refused to let anything ruin this moment, especially another argument about anything having to do with water.

  The kiss was soft, tender. Just a little of what he planned to bestow upon her. He disentangled his hand from hers, wrapping it around her hip. Pulling her closer as he leaned further into her, he told her in one gentle touch how much he wanted her. The ache in his pants was enough to tell her how hard he was.

  Pausing, he whispered against her lips, “I can’t wait to kiss every inch of you.”

  Sweet laughter filled the room. “I can’t either.”